


Will You Sign My Cast?

by bigpinkbaguette



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Also Marceline plays softball but not yet because its not softball season, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, References to Canon, References to anxiety, Yeah just another high school AU in which Bonnie's a nerd, canon lgbtq characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29802087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigpinkbaguette/pseuds/bigpinkbaguette
Summary: Bonnie Buckingham and Marcy Abadeer used to be inseparable despite being as different as night and day. They went to the same school, lived down the same street, and did everything together. People in their neighborhood rarely saw one without the other following close behind. They made a promise that they would always be friends. Of course, that was before Marceline moved away.Seven years later, Bonnibel finds herself face-to-face with many problems she's never experienced outside of the countless books she's read, and Marceline just happens to be the source of most of them.
Relationships: Princess Bubblegum/Marceline
Comments: 34
Kudos: 49





	1. The Last Day of Summer, Roughly Seven Years Before

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! So, as you may or may not know, I've literally never written an AU before. Well, I've certainly brainstormed, but I've not actually followed through with most of them. This idea kind of started a while ago, and I've tried to write it a few times but always discarded it like... two chapters in. I discussed this idea on another platform, and it got a lot of cool feedback, so... I've decided to bring it to life! Ta-da! Hope you enjoy, because I'm certainly having fun writing it.

Eleven-year-old Bonnibel Buckingham sat at the desk set just by her window at six o’clock in the morning. She rested her head on her hand and gazed sadly out at the street, though the view was for the most part blocked by the large moving truck that occupied her next-door neighbour’s driveway. She let out a long sigh as she watched the other little girl, her lifelong best friend Marceline Abadeer, climb into the truck.

She had seen it coming- it had been only January when, at Bonnie’s small birthday party, Marceline had tugged on her friend’s shirt and told her she wanted to talk. Since then, the girls had come up with a few agreements to keep in touch, with the help of their parents and guardians. This, however, didn’t make it hurt any less. Bonnie still found herself sitting at her window and gazing longingly at the truck that held most, if not all of Marceline’s belongings.

As she watched Marceline climb into the truck, Bonnie’s aunt placed her hand delicately on her niece’s shoulder and looked out at the street as well. “Why don’t you go say goodbye?”

Bonnie opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t say anything. She buried her face in her hands. She didn’t _want_ to say goodbye, but not because she didn’t love her friend; she just didn’t want her to have to leave.

“I know it hurts,” her aunt assured her gently. “But the least you can do is wish her and her mother well. After all, she is going through a rough spot.”

Bonnie knew this fact well. The whole reason Marceline was moving away in the first place was because her mother was growing more and more ill with leukaemia and, though she’d fought strongly in all the years Bonnibel had known her, she’d been experiencing more and more difficulty in recent months. Now, her, her daughter, and an old family friend who had promised to take care of little Marceline had to leave the small town that Marceline had resided in for her entire life to seek better treatment.

As if on cue, Marceline hopped out of the truck as if she’d forgotten something and sprinted up Bonnie’s driveway with something closed in her fist. She flung open the door without knocking. Needless to say, this was not seen as poor etiquette considering the circumstances.

“Bonnie!” She cried, practically throwing herself at the other girl in a tight embrace. Her face was already wet with tears when she buried her face in the crook of Bonnie’s neck, and she sobbed heavily. Bonnie had always hated it when she did that, especially when she was crying, but she didn’t have the heart to say anything about it right then. Not only that, but she had to admit that it did make her feel a tiny bit safer.

Bonnie placed her hands on Marceline’s head and squeezed her eyes shut as if the world would disappear, as if Marceline would never have to leave if she’d just kept her eyes closed. “’M gonna miss you,” she muttered, accidentally getting a mouthful of long, black hair. She didn’t care.

“You, too,” Marceline wailed, hugging tighter. Bonnie didn’t even know that was possible and let out a tiny, surprised squeak. Marceline laughed a tiny bit and pulled back, instead placing her hands on Bonnie’s shoulders. “You’ll write?”

Bonnie rubbed her eye and nodded. “Yup. Just like we planned.”

Marceline looked out the window. Bonnie glanced in that direction as well, and caught a glimpse of Marceline’s friend, Simon Petrikov, who would be looking out for her during her mother’s extended stays and therapy. He waved for the little girl, who took one more look in Bonnie’s eyes. She took a small, metal object out of her pocket and took hold of Bonnie’s hand.

Puzzled, Bonnie looked down at the shape that her friend had pressed into her palm. It was a stylized keychain depicting a hissing yellow snake with what appeared to be two marshmallows on sticks sticking out behind it. The symbol meant nothing to Bonnie, and she tilted her head at the unfamiliar shape and looked at Marceline with uncertainty.

Marceline leaned in for one more hug and whispered, “So you’ll remember me.”

“But I’ll always remember you,” Bonnie replied. She wasn’t usually the sentimental type, but what harm could a small keychain do? She figured she’d have to put it on her backpack or something.

Letting out another small, bittersweet laugh, Marceline stepped back and made her way to the door. “You, too, B-Bells.” She took a step out of the door, before twisting her oversized boot around and poking her head back in with a worried and sad expression on her face. “You think we’ll always be best friends?”

Bonnie thought about this for a second before nodding confidently. “Forever,” she promised.

Of course, it wouldn’t last forever. Marceline would get to her new home and beg Simon to get the phone set up first so that she could talk to Bonnie. For the first night, even though it was the eve of the first day of school, Bonnie and Marcy would stay up all night, talking on the phone. For the first few days, they would call each other every night. For the first few weeks, they would write letters, emails, notes, and text messages to be exchanged. For the first months, they would share everything, perhaps spending more time together online and on the phone than they did in the years they’d spent together. For the first year, they were best friends. It certainly seemed like it would never end.

What neither of them knew was that they couldn’t keep it up for much longer than a year, and certainly not for centuries. Bonnie would spend more and more time on homework every day, and Marceline would grow more and more clingy. She refused to make new friends at school because she had Bonnie, but Bonnie couldn’t always be there for her. Sure, she loved Marceline, but even for her, keeping up with Marceline’s ever-growing need for a friend as her mother’s health declined would be too much.

They didn’t know that one day, on the last day of summer, they would have one last argument that would result in Bonnibel cutting off all contact with Marceline. Instead of being there for each other forever like they’d promised, they would vow never speak to one another again.

They’d break that vow that had torn them apart, too, but not until about five and a half years after they’d sworn it.


	2. 284 Days Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! Disclaimer! Though the second half of this first chapter takes place in a cafe, it's important to remember that, yes, this is a high school AU and not a coffee shop/cafe AU. The choice of setting is partially based on an inside joke but in hindsight it was a decent choice.

Seventeen-year-old Bonnibel Buckingham had always kept a constant sleep schedule. Even during the summer, she woke herself up at 6 o’clock in the morning to get an early start on the day. It had been this way ever since her first year of middle school, when she would wake up in the morning and talk with friends on the phone until she had to walk to the bus stop.

Now, for the past two years, she spent those mornings driving to the quiet little café that resided just across the street from her high school to meet up with her friends Jacob and Lady, often accompanied by one of Jake’s little brothers, Finn.

She had put herself in this rhythm for so long that often, she would find herself awake a few minutes before her alarm went off. It was like a science to her. Now that it was the first day of school, she would resume this pattern of joining her friends in the morning.

That morning, on the first day of school, she lay in the darkness, gazing out at the alarm clock. _5:57,_ it read in bright red letters. Just next to it sat a landline phone with a blinking red light indicating several voicemails.

Bonnibel squinted at the number. She never checked the answering machine, and for the past several years it had always read _9._ That morning, the number had increased to _10_. Though Bonnibel was certainly confused by this, she decided it didn’t matter that much. She’d completely forgotten why she still had that – she hadn’t even touched it ever since she got her cell phone upon turning thirteen. No one even had that phone number. No one except for…

The alarm started to make a shrill, annoying sound, and Bonnibel shook the thought. She immediately sat up, slapped the top of the clock to make it stop and almost knocking over the lamp in the process. The light clicked on with one swift flick of Bonnibel’s wrist. She practically jumped out of bed, turning around, looking at herself in the mirror and immediately noticed her mane of frizzy ginger hair puffing out around her.

“You’ve got this, Bonnibel,” she told herself, letting out a laughing sigh and picking up the clothing she’d laid out for herself the night before and bolting out of the door. She looked through the pile of clothing, consisting of a cute jean jacket, a long-sleeved shirt despite the warm southern weather that early August offered, and a long skirt. Then, she stopped abruptly and turned right back around.

Using the side of the door frame to swing a little bit, Bonnibel found herself standing by a cage and various pet care items. She picked up a plastic container of rat food, opened the cage, and sprinkled some into a tiny ceramic bowl. “There you go, Science,” she giggled, stroking the soft, brown fur of the little sleeping doe with her forefinger before taking her arm out of the cage and closing it gently, being careful not to make too much noise, and latching the top before she would leave the room once more and head for the linen closet.

Her aunt wouldn’t be awake for a few hours, so she decided it would be a good time to use the outdoor shower they’d had installed earlier that summer. Bonnibel quietly shut the door behind her and made her way to the linen closet, where she would pick up a towel before heading out to the backyard and walking around to the shower. She set her towel and clothes carefully on the top and turned on the water, waiting for it to heat up before stepping in and undressing.

A few minutes later, Bonnibel stepped out of the shower fully clothed and ready to continue her daily routine. She checked her watch. _6:32_. At this rate, she’d probably make it to the café by 7:15 – roughly fifteen minutes before Jake and Lindsey would arrive. She was doing great.

Bonnibel walked quickly through the house to the bathroom, where she’d dry her hair, brush it, and put it in a nice braid before quickly brushing her teeth and making her way to the kitchen to make breakfast.

When she stepped out into the kitchen, she noticed her Aunt Lolly sitting at the counter with a tired, concerned look on her face.

“Mornin’, Lolly,” Bonnibel greeted her cheerfully. “You’re up early,” she observed before turning around and opening the freezer. A cold gust of air surprised her, but she reached in to grab a frozen egg-and-cheese sandwich.

“Good morning, Bonnibel,” she let out an elongated sigh. “And yeah, I was hoping I could talk to you.”

“About my future?” It felt like Bonnibel had been training her entire life for this discussion. At her school, she was, if not the top student, at least one of the most dedicated and successful. Her aunt had never seemed worried about her academic life, so though she found the conversation sudden, she had an idea of some topics she could discuss. “Well, I’m going to be taking dual enrolment classes all this year, and I’ll end up getting my International Baccalaureate diploma. I’m planning on going to college, of course, and I’ll probably end up picking up some job at the café or something. Haven’t really thought about that as much-”

“About your social life.”

Bonnibel was surprised not only at the fact that she’d been cut off but because of all the things a legal guardian could worry about, she’d chosen… that. “What about it…?”

Her aunt sighed. “Bonnibel, I want you to make some friends.”

She rolled her eyes and snorted. “What’s that make Jake and Lindsey? Chopped liver?”

“You know what I mean. Friends. _Real_ friends. Not study partners or a go-to science fair team. Real friends that you can have sleepovers with. I swear, for the past seven years you haven’t spoken to anyone besides that rat of yours.”

Bonnibel opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t figure out what to say. Eventually, she decided on explaining exactly _why_ she couldn’t have any friends. “Look, auntie, I…” she sighed and popped the breakfast sandwich she’d pulled out of the freezer into the microwave before walking around the counter. She pulled out one of the wooden stools next to her aunt and sat down. “I want all of that. I really do. But… I just don’t have _time._ My studies have been keeping me busy, and once I get a job-”

“No, Bonnie-” Lolly pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head in disdain. “All this summer, you’ve been locked in your room studying. Eventually, there’s going to be nothing more for you to learn, and what then? I don’t want to see a girl of mine stay a _hermit_ her whole life!” She crossed her arms. “Even having _one_ friend is better than that! God, things were so much better when the Abadeers-”

The microwave started beeping, and Bonnibel just stared at her aunt, shocked and confused. The name of the family that had once lived next door hadn’t been uttered once in five and a half years. The youngest member of the family, the little girl, had once upon a time been best friends with Bonnibel before she pushed her away for the same reason she refused to make friends now.

Though Lolly was aware of the falling out between the two girls, she remained blissfully unaware of what exactly had torn them apart. Despite lack of knowledge. Realizing what she’d said, Lolly looked away and eventually broke the silence by saying, “Get that microwave to stop.”

Bonnibel opened continued to stare at her aunt with a deadpan expression. She looked at the clock once more. _7:03_. “’Bye, Lolly,” she finally muttered, clearly avoiding the conversation. This had been something she’d been hoping to avoid but decided it was a fight-or-flight situation, and Bonnibel would choose flight. She skipped to the back door and grabbed her keys and lanyard, opening the door to the garage.

“Wait, Bonnibel, I’m sorry-”

“Look, it’s fine.” Bonnibel stood there in the doorway. “Look, that was a long time ago. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ve been over it for years. Love you!”

Lolly opened her mouth to speak once more, but Bonnibel shut the door behind her, leaning up against it and closing her eyes for a moment. It had been five years since she’d even spoken to the little girl who had used to live down her street. Sure, she’d felt guilty for the first year or so; she had been the only real friend Bonnibel had ever had, but she’d gotten over it. At least, that’s what she told herself as she pushed gently off the door and began walking through the garage to her car. There was no way she’d let this get in the way of her having a successful first day at school after a long, lonely summer.

Much to Bonnibel’s surprise, by the time she arrived at the café across the street from her school, Finn, Jake, and Lady had already saved a table. Not only that, but the shop was _busy_. She looked around at the people scattered around the shop, a particularly high per circling around the counter and not in the usual orderly line. From where she was standing, Bonnibel couldn’t see, but she was sure she’d figure it out soon enough. After all, it was a small café.

She took a moment to appreciate the soft, familiar warmth that she had looked forward to about every day for the past two years. The scent of coffee and baked goods filled the air, and paintings sporting various light shades of browns, yellows and oranges lined the walls. The tables and chairs, though admittedly cheap, added to the wooded aesthetic. At near the wall closest to the door was the counter, the register, and a glass case showing off baked goods. The counter and food were barely visible from where Bonnibel stood as a result of the group of people flocking around the counter like needlessly excited fans at a band concert.

“Hey, Bonnibel!” Jake called, waving his arm in the air. She could barely hear him over the ruckus caused by the others in the rest of the people in scattered clusters around the shop, but she glanced in his direction and got a good idea of what was going on nonetheless. “We saved you a spot. It’s a good thing, too, ‘cause there weren’t a lot of spots left.” He pulled out a chair in between him and his brother and gestured toward it.

Bonnibel responded to this with a curt, dismissive nod and attempted to locate where the end of the usual line would be, taking a few steps closer to the table that her friends sat at. She was quite frustrated to find the café, her “happy place,” as her friend jokingly called it on account of her ability to shut out the world and feel safe in such a focused and familiar environment, broken into such discord.

Finn was clearly the first one to notice this. “Is she okay?” he asked. “Why is she ignoring us? Do you think she didn’t hear you?” The little boy seemed to be taking the situation personally, which was something he often did. “Was it something I said?”

“Oh, she can hear us alright,” Jake chuckled at his kid brother. “She’s just confused. If you remember, she didn’t show up to Preston’s block party. She has _no clue_ who that is. Just give her a minute.”

A small giggle came from Lady. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was upset with this new girl showing up and crashing her happy place.”

Bonnibel, who had been listening the whole time, whipped around and stepped even closer to the table, slapping her hands onto it. “What _new girl_?” she demanded.

Finn and Lady looked up at her, surprised that she had been listening to the conversation. Jake, on the contrary, leaned back in his chair and let out a laugh. “Good morning to you, too, Bonnibel.”

She let out a calm sigh and lowered her voice. “Sorry. Good morning,” she muttered curtly, before returning to the issue at hand. “Now, what’s this that Lady says about a new girl?”

As if on cue, the group behind her let out laughs of various types and degrees. Bonnibel assumed that it had been somehow related to whatever was going on at the counter. Jake crossed his arms and jerked his chin in that direction. “Go meet her yourself,” he replied simply.

Reluctantly, Bonnibel stood up straight and turned around. She was certainly unhappy that the café, _her_ café, was in such disorder, but the idea of a new girl in town was certainly a distraction she didn’t want or need.

She hesitantly stepped up to the semicircle of her classmates, most of which she could quickly identify; Preston, who was known for his parties and among the senior class as the Wish Master for his… uncanny ability to get his hands on what seemed like just about any and every illegal substance on the planet, and his best friend whose real name seemed lost in time and instead went by Hoots. The ringleader of the mob, Bonnibel recognized as soon as she heard his voice, was another one of the more popular boys, Ash.

Bonnibel pushed through the crowd to see exactly what was going on. Just as she’d suspected, she saw the tell-tale bleached mullet of Ash as he leaned on the counter. He smirked at the person working the register, though Bonnibel would have to move a bit more to see their face.

Ash muttered something at them as Bonnibel stood up on her tiptoes trying to get a look. Though she personally didn’t hear what he said, it must have been funny, because his smirk turned into a stupid, boyish grin as he traced his finger in circles upon the granite counter. Bonnibel realized this must be the girl everyone was excited about, seeing as Ash had been his normal annoying self for as long as Bonnibel could remember. They had gone to school together since 4th grade, and everyone knew who he was.

The recipient didn’t seem to take it kindly, as she leaned forward and pushed the boy off the counter. Bonnibel realized this was partially jokingly, however, when everyone else laughed. “Alright, y’all, this is fun, but I need to do my job,” she announced. “If you’re not gonna get in line, buzz off. I can’t tell which of you guys are actually here to buy junk.”

The students all let out disappointed murmurs, and a lot of them made their way out of the door, though a few did remain in their seats. Bonnibel was among these, and was studying the appearance of this “new girl”

She was noticeably a bit shorter than Bonnibel, but this wasn’t saying a lot considering Bonnibel was unusually tall for her age. One of the things that stuck out to Bonnibel was her long, black hair that, though she tried to contain it all in a bun, stuck out nonetheless. Her skin was a dark, bronze or chestnut colour, and her eyes-

Her heart sank as she realized she’d accidentally made eye contact with the girl, who stared right back at her. After a few long seconds of this, the girl, who was clearly amused by Bonnibel simply standing there, threw back her head and laughed.

Bonnibel felt her face flush. No one ever laughed at her, not outside her close friends, and most of the time they would be laughing _with_ her. She chalked this down to the new girl simply not knowing her place in the social pyramid of the school. Either way, Bonnibel still found herself standing there like an idiot and just giving the girl at the counter a frustrated stare as she laughed.

After a little while of this, Bonnibel found herself wondering what could _possibly_ be so funny about this situation. Then again, she never was the humorous type. Maybe there was something she was missing.

Eventually, the girl leaned onto the counter and simply looked at Bonnibel with an amused look in her eyes. “C’mere, stranger,” she finally said, giving Bonnibel a tiny wave. “Why don’t you tell me what I can get for you?”

Though it was made rather clear that she was talking to Bonnibel, Bonnibel still instinctually looked around her area to make sure she wasn’t talking to anyone else. She hesitantly stepped to the counter and placed her hands on it, feeling that it was still uncomfortably warm from when Ash had been leaning against it and instead crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Uhm…” She looked up at the menu and pretended to contemplate the various options as she got herself together. “I’ll just take a… a medium iced mocha.” She remembered the hollow feeling in her stomach. “And a slice of banana bread.”

“Roger that, Bonnie,” the girl replied, standing up and quickly tapping something on a computer.

Bonnibel tensed. “What did you just call me?”

She pointed at the lanyard dangling from Bonnibel’s neck. “Says Bonnibel on your student ID, and I figured no one in their right mind would seriously want to be called-”

“’Bonnibel’ is just fine, thank you,” Bonnibel snapped, cutting the girl off.

“Geez, fine,” she added. “Just thought it’d be easie-”

“Thank you,” Bonnibel repeated.

The girl broke slowly broke her confident character and let out a nervous chuckle.

The price for the order appeared on a small screen in bright green letters, and Bonnibel took her wallet out of her back pocket and unzipped it, slipping out several bills and placing them on the counter. She wanted the interaction to be as brief as possible. Something about this girl made her feel uneasy, almost as if she’d seen her somewhere before. “Keep the change.”

“Alright.” A shrill sound came from the computer, and the girl tore away the piece of paper upon which her order had been printed and held it out to Bonnibel.

Bonnibel snatched the slip of paper from her, though felt bad immediately afterward. “Uh, thank you.”

“No problem,” the girl replied, giving Bonnibel a glare despite the hopelessly offended expression she’d worn just a few seconds prior.

“And, uh…” Bonnibel started, fiddling with the bit of paper and folding it in half. “Do I know you? I mean, I get it you’re new and all but I can’t tell if I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

The girl hesitated before answering, as if a child had asked her a question and was trying to figure out an appropriate way to explain it. “That, uh… I mean, you don’t look like any of my friends from back in Arizona.”

Though that wasn’t entirely what Bonnibel had meant, she decided to shrug it off. She’d figure it out sooner or later. “Hm. Okay.”

She turned around to go join her friends at their table. They all looked like they could burst into laughter at any second. “What? What’re you all looking at me like that for?”

A wheeze of laughter came from both Finn and Jake, while Lady just looked at Bonnibel with an amused look on her face. “Bonnibel, we have never _once_ seen you act like such an idiot.”

“ _What?_ ” she demanded incredulously, before sighing and sitting down. She crossed her arms, assuming the position of an angry five-year-old. “I mean… I wasn’t acting like an idiot. I was just… she seemed familiar, you know? Not that-”

Finn was the first to stop laughing. “I mean, she _did_ say that she lived here a few years back,” he muttered thoughtfully.

“What?” Bonnibel sat up straight. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah, like… a few years ago.” Finn said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course, Jake an’ I have only lived here for, like, two years. I don’t know how long Lady’s lived here, but she doesn’t remember her, either. Seems as if none of us have lived here long enough. How long have _you_ been here?”

Bonnibel froze as she considered the possibilities. “I’ve lived here all my life.”

“She just sort of showed up at Preston’s block party. Plays some _mad_ bass, I tell you. Got a really pretty voice, too,” Jake added after finally regaining his composure. “Everyone kinda wondered where she came from. Lived in Phoenix for the past few years. Says something about her mom needing cancer treatment there. Oh, and her name’s Marceline. Marceline Abadeer. A lot of kids are happy to have her back, and the ones that don’t know her absolutely _adore_ her. I’d say she’s pretty cool.” Jake playfully elbowed Bonnibel. “I mean, hey, you seem to think so, too. Someone would have to be a damned charmer to get away with calling you ‘Bonnie’.”

A sick feeling developed in Bonnibel’s stomach as it the realization hit her like a truck. Marceline Abadeer. That explained a lot, but it also brought into light so many new questions. She hadn’t seen her in years, which probably explained why she didn’t recognize the girl at the counter. She felt her body tense, and flinched when Lady spoke.

“What’s wrong? Are you going to be okay?”

Bonnibel nodded. “Yeah, I just, um…”

“Bonnie!” The new and yet familiar voice of Marceline called from the back of the café, causing Bonnibel to let out a frustrated cry.


	3. 283 Days Before

On Monday night, Bonnibel had avoided her aunt at all costs. She told herself that she wasn’t hurt by what her aunt had said about her failed relationship with her former best friend, but it was a good excuse to eat dinner in her room as she began organising all of the various syllabi and materials that she’d received the previous day. The next day, however, she would find her time that she used for extra planning and organization and to just sort of be alone with her thoughts cut short as she was expected to have dinner with her aunt.

“Bonnibel! It’s dinner time!”

She sighed as she plopped the folders on her desk and pushed her chair back. “Do I have to?” she called to her aunt.

“Um, _yes_!”

Bonnibel slumped forward and hit her head on the edge of the table. She knew well that she wouldn’t be able to avoid the conversation that Lolly had attempted to start with her on Monday morning forever. Not only that, but she would be forced to tell her exactly how every second of her day went.

Normally, Bonnibel wouldn’t have a problem with telling her aunt Lolly everything that happened in her life. She was a good kid, and only did what she knew was legal and what was allowed. Sure, this had caused for some of her classmates to complain about her, insisting that she was a goody two-shoes. However, these same traits earned her the approval of her teachers and some of the other higher-performing students. She generally separated herself from most of the others, even if they were on her same social level, but she had been friends with Lady since their sophomore year. She would also learn to enjoy the company of Lady’s boyfriend and his little brother.

This wasn’t a normal school year, though. Her first day, rather than being excited for the school year like she would _normally_ be, she was reluctant and anxious for what this year would bring.

As an advanced student (and a dedicated one at that), Bonnibel didn’t share many classes with other students who weren’t a part of the same program she was, and not a lot of students were members of the same program. Jake and Lady were each in three of her classes, two of which they had with each other as well. However, it was still the first week of school, so schedules were subject to change, with the final alterations being made within the first two weeks.

“Now!” Lolly’s voice jerked Bonnibel out of her deep train of thought.

Bonnibel let out a groan, though not loud enough for her aunt to hear and stood up. She pushed the chair by her desk in and shut off the lamp. She wandered out into the main area and to the kitchen, where her aunt had left her a bowl of spaghetti. She wordlessly picked up the bowl and opened a drawer, selecting a fork. There was no sound except for the clattering of silverware as she opened and closed the door. She carried these items to the dining room table, at which her aunt already sat, waiting for her. Then, she simply pulled out a chair and sat down, setting the bowl down and picking at the spaghetti with her fork, stirring it around as it cooled.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes, but eventually, Lolly would break the silence by asking, “So, how was your day?”

“It was fine,” Bonnibel mumbled, continuing to twirl the noodles around with her fork. “Today and yesterday have been rather, uh, _uneventful_ ,” she lied.

Another awkward silence spanned over the next several minutes as the two each carefully contemplated what they would say next, almost like a game of chess. If Bonnibel was a genius, it would have been Lolly who originated that. Though she did less than with her intellect than she hoped, she was certainly a good teacher. When she looked at Bonnibel, she saw herself, and vice versa. They were almost the same person, which meant they had the same conversation tactic- trying to outsmart whoever they were speaking to. That being said, neither of them could get very far into a conversation if one of them didn’t want to talk or disagreed with the other in some way. Bonnibel wasn’t a little girl anymore.

“Did you make any friends?” Lolly asked, deciding to go straight to the point. “Maybe even reconnect with an old friend?”

Bonnibel shook her head and shovelled a large amount of spaghetti into her mouth to avoid being pressed for further elaboration, though she doubted she could avoid it forever. There was no way in hell that she would be up for discussing who she had seen at the café, nor the fact that Marceline was also going to her school, though she, much to Bonnibel’s relief, didn’t share any classes with her.

Lolly hesitated before asking the next question. “Do you plan on running for student council again this year? You’ve won three years straight; I wouldn’t be surprised if you won it again this year. I know a lot of your teachers are rooting for you, and nobody’s really been that formidable of an opponent for you, you know?”

Nodding and swallowing, Bonnibel would give a verbal answer. “Yeah, I’m running. Lady’s going to run for secretary, and Jake for treasury. The usual council has always been the three of us and whoever runs against me that year.” At their school, the student council vice president was always either selected by the president as a running mate, but the presidential candidate could opt out of a running mate and whoever got the second most votes would serve as the vice. The position of vice president was usually reserved for if the president elect had a best friend or significant other, and in Bonnie’s case, she had neither.

“Do you know who you want your running mate to be?” Lolly asked as if she were reading Bonnibel’s mind.

“No. I probably won’t select one this year. That’s what I do every year, anyways. Not really that interested in making friends with anyone, I guess.” She took another large bite to once again avoid being asked to elaborate. A feeling of dread crept through her chest as she realized she had no clue what she was going to do about her current situation involving her friends or the new-but-not-really-new girl that had showed up practically out of nowhere. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too much of a distraction for her.

Lolly shook her head sadly. “Bonnibel, that’s concerning.”

“ _What?_ ” Bonnibel blurted. “Ma’am, I’ve opted out of choosing a running mate for the past three years and you’ve not said a word about it.”

“No, no,” she put up a finger to silence her niece. “It’s not that. You said that you’re not _interested_ in anyone. Which leads into what I tried to discuss with you Monday morning-”

“Aunt Lolly, I swear, I’m _fine._ ” Bonnibel interjected. “Fine. 100% fine. I’ve gotten this far. I’ll go to college, get a degree, study biology- it’ll be fine.”

“But what about your co-workers? Friends?” Lolly challenged. Of _course_ she wasn’t worried about Bonnibel’s grades or her taking initiative in her life. “Not to mention that most girls your age would have had at least _one boyfriend_ by your age.”

Bonnibel winced at this remark. Though this was true, it was also worth noting that Bonnibel hadn’t ever felt _anything_ for the boys at her school, and even less did she see the appeal in dating them. She had been with a lot of these kids since they were very little, before they’d even hit puberty, and when they all grew and their voices deepened, unlike a lot of the girls who had boyfriends, she found even less of an appeal in dating them. “I don’t really… I’m not interested in or attracted to anyone,” she argued, picking at her spaghetti with her fork.

“Look, I’m not pushing you to get a boyfriend, Bonnibel.” She let out a long sigh. “Just… at least, at the _least_ , find yourself a friend. At this point, I don’t even care if it’s another nerd like you or some artsy, queer band member who is the literal definition of disaster. Someone you can hang out with, or hold an extended conversation with about something that _isn’t_ school.”

Bonnibel grumbled and looked away from her aunt, instead focusing on the reflection of the dining room light off the handle of her fork. She didn’t even know what she was arguing anymore- was she insisting that she didn’t have friends and didn’t need them? That seemed stupid. She could probably just ask Lady to hang out at some point after school, though she didn’t know where she would find the time. “I understand.”

Lolly was admittedly quite surprised by this. “You do?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Bonnibel nodded. “I’ll… try to find a running mate. Or, better yet, I’ll… befriend whoever ends up being my vice.” She cringed at the nature of the statement. She had no idea who would be running against her this year, so that was quite a bold remark. She was a smart girl, though. How hard could it be?

“Good. I’m glad to hear that,” aunt Lolly replied, though she was rather uneasy. There was no way Bonnibel would back down from any argument, especially not as quickly as she had.

Clearly, Bonnibel wasn’t necessarily happy about this new pressure that was being placed on her to go out and make actual friends. She quickly finished her dinner and got up, rinsing out her bowl and placing it in the sink. She opened the dishwasher with the intent of unloading it, but her aunt interrupted her.

“I’ll take care of the kitchen tonight.”

Bonnibel worked on organizing her papers for perhaps a half hour or so before she shuffled them into a neat stack and pulled out her backpack that she’d placed under the rat’s cage, unzipping it and neatly setting the various folders and notebooks inside in their assigned order and areas.

As she zipped the backpack back up, she felt in her hand the keychain that Marceline had given her just before her departure, and remembered the promise she’d made her before they left – that she would never forget Marceline. She traced her finger gently along the pattern. _Had_ she forgotten about her? After everything they’d had, Bonnibel was almost entirely sure there had always been something in the back of her mind that dwelled on the loss of her first best friend.

Feeling the cold metal that had first been pressed into her palm so long ago, she realized that she didn’t trust herself to answer that question. Certainly not yet. She finished zipping up her backpack and set it back under the cage.

She sat on her bed and looked around her room. It had always been tidy, and the overall appearance of it hadn’t changed since she was in elementary school. She remembered that the walls used to be lined with photos. They were photos of just about anything and everything; photos that Marceline had taken, photos that her mother or Bonnibel’s aunt had taken of the two girls, or selfies that they’d taken just before middle school. Now, the walls were barren.

Everything in her room was perfect, orderly, and unmoving that night. Even the rat was asleep.

Usually, this would have calmed Bonnibel. She appreciated being in an environment where everything was quiet and still. That night, though, she found that the unusual stillness allowed for her attention to be drawn to one thing in particular. She stared at the desk in an attempt to ignore it and just be alone with her thoughts, but it was near impossible.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could still see the light produced by the blinking red number on the phone that was set up in her room. With each blink, each time the number turned on before shutting off again, a thought ebbed at Bonnibel’s mind. A thought she couldn’t quite shake, but she didn’t want to give into it either. It was as if every time she saw that red light, she moved an inch closer to the phone.

Before she knew it, she found herself holding the phone in her hand, her hand hovering over the “select” button. Mesmerised by the tiny display that told her she had ten voicemails, she pressed the button.

The date on the screen was from about five years ago. She heard the far too familiar voice of Marceline start talking, and immediately knew what it was about.

“Bonnie,” the voice started, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, I promise. You’re my best friend, and I know I said a lot of terrible things. There’s no excuse for what I said.” There was a long contemplative silence. “So… call me back, okay?”

Bonnibel’s heart pounded, and she quickly pressed the cancel button and set the phone back on its dock on her night stand. She wiped her face with her sleeve and rubbed her tearful eyes. She certainly wasn’t ready for that yet, but maybe one day, she would be.


	4. 281 Days Before

Bonnibel had never had a problem with the student council system. Or, at least, the voting and nomination guidelines.

It was always disappointing when a student would suck up to her in hopes of being appointed her vice president. In the other classes, candidates usually either appointed their significant other or best friend as vice president, and Bonnibel had never really been that close to anyone. Though Lady was her best friend, she always found herself out of options as Lady usually ran for the position of secretary and the only other person she considered her friend was Jake, who ran for treasury. Part of what had brought them together was when during their sophomore year, the three would work together on the student council.

Excited chatter filled the auditorium as Bonnibel’s classmates lined up in the chairs and eagerly awaited the arrival of the dean of students. Though this was sometimes a tedious process, it was the school’s tradition to personally welcome each new member. At least it wasn’t as bad as the freshman class, who would be introduced one-by-one. It was a small school, though, and they often did this in the span of three days.

Bonnibel sat next to Jake and Lady, and though she was hesitant, began to engage in the chatter that buzzed around the auditorium.

One of the boys sitting in front of her turned around and tapped her on the knee. “Ey, Bonnibel, you lookin’ for a running mate?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not a chance, Braco.” She gave him a passive-aggressive smile, and he whipped back around. As a result of this reaction, Preston, who sat next to him, began giggling maniacally.

“Damn, Bonnibel,” Jake laughed. “You know, there’s a reason they don’t let opposing candidates become the vice president in the U.S. government anymore, right?”

Before Bonnibel could think of a witty answer to Jake’s rhetorical question, an electric crackling sound echoed through the auditorium followed by a loud squeal of microphone feedback. The chatter quieted down to a murmur, and after a few seconds, a whisper as a man walked onstage.

Normally, for these kinds of events, the dean of students would stand in front of the class and begin the event by introducing new students, but an entirely different man stepped forward. He tapped on the microphone he held in his hand before placing it on the stand that was set up just for him to use. He tapped the microphone, leaned in, and said, “Your permanent dean is out on leave for the next two weeks, so I will be taking his place for the next little while. You may call me Dean Lord.”

Bonnibel frowned, and nervous murmurs filled the room. Though there was no overhanging question and the various mutters meant different things, she knew well that the nature of these questions were all the same; who was this man? What is he like? What the heck happened to Dean Earl? Of course, they all knew that these questions would not be answered, but that wouldn’t stop them from asking them to each other. Bonnibel had always found that odd, but didn’t think too much of it right then, knowing that her train of thought would spiral somewhere it didn’t need to go.

“As part of your school’s tradition to give everyone an equal opportunity to run for council, I will be introducing the new students in reverse alphabetical order.” When he talked, it was as if he were always on his toes, stressing just to pronounce everything correctly. He was a short man with disproportionally long arms. As he called off the names of students, all of the students in the room clapped politely, with the occasional shout and wave from those who were assumed to be new neighbours that had already spoken to them.

Most of students would get out of their seats, walk up to the stage, and give a nervous wave before hurriedly walking away. However, there was one particular student whose name caused a ruckus of cheers.

“And last, but not least, Marceline Abadeer.”

Bonnibel tried not to stare as she quickly recognized the girl who she had last seen at the café on Monday morning. Apparently, Jake hadn’t been joking when he said that everyone already adored her; this was made clear by the loud screaming from several friend groups that were scattered around the auditorium. She glanced to her left, and saw that even Jake and Lady were giving the girl cheers of their own, as if she were some sort of celebrity.

Bonnibel rolled her eyes at this. What could Marceline _possibly_ have done to have gained so much popularity. It wasn’t like she was even that _pretty._ At least, not by the standards of the vast majority of the student body. Of course, not that she was looking.

Curiosity ebbed at Bonnibel’s mind as this train of thought passed through and as Marceline stepped into the lights that were most commonly used by the theatre department. It went without saying that she had certainly matured from when Bonnibel remembered her. She was no longer the sweet, soft girl with the adorable baby face that Bonnibel had known and loved and seen just about every day for the first eleven years of her life.

No, Marceline was a big girl now. What had once been cute awkwardness had been replaced by a proud sense of beauty, and Bonnibel couldn’t help but notice this as she stood upon the stage, giving a large, overly dramatic wave to everyone in the auditorium.

The dean shot Marceline a deadly glare, though she remained blissfully oblivious to this. Some things never change, do they? Bonnibel let out a tiny giggle before she caught herself and looked away, flushing.

Jake gave her a look that was a mixture of amusement and pleasure, and Bonnibel shot him a deadly glare.

He raised his eyebrows and, as the cheers died out, Bonnibel whispered, “Shut up.”

As Marceline skipped away, Dean Lord smiled for what seemed like the first time. “Yes, she is a lovely young lady.” He cleared his throat. “Now, for out next order of business, I will now call up those who wish to run for student council, each by their positions. You will come up here and receive a piece of paper outlining the information before shaking hands with each of your opponents to promise a kind, healthy, and honest campaign. Campaigning can begin as early as tomorrow. You will all give speeches at the end of September, giving you this entire month.” His voice was monotonous as he spoke. “Votes will be cast after your speeches. There are more details on this paper. Y’all have been here for three years, I’m sure you know how this works. I will be explaining afterwards, though, because your school’s administration wants to torture me by keeping me here for an eternity.”

A lot of the students gave tiny laughs, though Bonnibel doubted that he was joking. Then again, he was insanely difficult to read, though it was worth noting that Bonnibel wasn’t generally good at reading people.

Not many students cared for running for student council at this point, especially if it meant walking up to the stage for everyone to see you shake hands with other students, so the candidates would mostly consist of those who had run in previous years. Dean Lord looked back down at his paper before licking his lips and leaning back into the microphone. “Those who wish to run for student council secretary, please step forward.”

Lady, as well as three other girls and one boy, all stood up and skipped up to the stage, each receiving a full-sized baby pink piece of paper. Just as the dean had told them, they all shook each other’s hands. Then, they would step off the stage as everyone else murmured and clapped politely.

“There are a lot of people running this year,” Lady observed as she took her seat next to Bonnibel.

Bonnibel shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. You’ll always have my vote. I’d say you’re the best secretary I’ve ever seen on this class’ student council,” she promised, half-jokingly.

“Thanks.” It took Lady a second to get the joke, but then she snorted and rolled her eyes. “I’m the _only_ student council secretary who has been on this class’ student council.” She playfully elbowed Bonnibel.

The substitute dean opened his mouth and spoke again. “Very nice. Now, all those who wish to run for treasury, please come onstage.”

Jake stood up, saying “I’m up,” and walking in between the chairs.

A few seconds after Jake stood up, Preston joined him. When Jake gave him a surprised look, he shrugged. “Ey, maybe I can win against you this year, big guy.” A few of Preston’s friends giggled, and Bonnibel let out a tiny laugh. Preston had run up against Jake two years in a row, and all of his friends had this joke where they would all vote for Jake and he would inevitably win. Though Preston was upset about this the first time, he’d given up trying to be an active member of the student body and went along with the joke.

One other boy whose name Bonnibel did not know also stepped forward, and the three boys each took a piece of paper and shook hands, Jake making a point to grasp onto Preston’s hand for longer than the other handshakes had been, and Preston responded to this by comically drawing his hand back and shaking it as if it had been hurt. This interaction between the two boys once again provoked giggles from around the auditorium.

The dean ignored this, and though Bonnibel knew exactly what came next, she was a bit nervous. Perhaps it was because she would be forced to stand in front of the rest of the auditorium, but then again, she didn’t tend to care what her classmates thought about her. Of course, until it came to whether or not she would earn their votes.

“All students who wish to run for student council president, please step forward.”

Bonnibel stood up, and a few of the people in her friend group and some of the students who had been voting her in for the past three years clapped as she walked up to the stage. The light was a little bit too bright for Bonnibel’s liking, but she managed to keep her eyes open to proudly take a piece of paper from the dean.

The dean was puzzled by the lack of volunteers willing to go up against her. “Now, you can’t have an election without two candidates,” he noted. “There has to be someone who thinks they can run against this young lady.”

The auditorium erupted into chatter, before one kid called up louder than the rest, “But sir, no one’s beat Bonnibel. We all just kind of agree that she’s the most qualified.”

Dean Lord frowned. “That’s terrible. The fact that this school lacks students who wish to be an active member of their student council…” he shook his head. “Oh, well. Here you go.” He handed the piece of paper to Bonnibel.

As she turned around, a voice called out. “Wait.”

Bonnibel froze and looked out into the auditorium. A single girl had stood up, and was already making her way through the chairs to join Bonnibel on stage. She squinted through the light to attempt to identify who had decided to run against her. Though she recognized the voice, she was quite surprised and wanted to make sure.

Marceline ran onto the stage and stood a few feet in front of Bonnibel. She looked out at the rest of the auditorium and huffed as if she were out of breath. “I’ll run against Bonbon.”

A few students chuckled, and Bonnibel felt her face flush. “It’s _Bonnibel_ ,” she corrected. She realized that Marceline was already making an attempt to make her look silly or stupid, and that the rest of the students saw this as well when they laughed. Bonnibel knew that it meant slightly more, though, as each nickname she’d used was a reference to one that Marceline had used for Bonnibel at some point during their childhood. This was the main reason Bonnibel had stopped going by “Bonnie” and asked everyone to call her by her full name instead. It always felt like a violation every time someone else used one of her nicknames, but it hurt even worse when Marceline would use them casually.

“Whatever you say, Bub-bubs.” Marceline took a sheet of paper from the stack that the dean was holding out to her and stuck out her hand to Bonnibel.

Bonnibel was made uneasy by this sudden challenge that Marceline had brought into her life. She had assumed that they’d mutually agreed to stay out of each other’s way and that no one had to know that they had a past together, but clearly, Marceline was willing to question her place as the new girl. Bonnibel reached out and held onto the hand that she hadn’t touched for what felt like decades.

Marceline smirked, clearly pleased with herself. “Have fun, Bonnibel,” she muttered just loud enough for her to hear. “Things are about to change around here.”

“I heard that the student council signups were today.” Lolly stood in Bonnibel’s doorway as soon as she’d come home from work. “Have you found a running mate yet?”

Bonnibel shook her head and set down the old notebook she’d been looking through. She set it down and put her arms over it, leaning forward slightly and looking at her aunt. “No. I’ll need some more time. Making friends isn’t something that happens overnight,” she explained. She didn’t actually plan on finding a running mate and said this just so her aunt would get off her back.

Lolly nodded. “Yeah, I guess I understand. Whose running against you this year?”

 _Dammit._ If her aunt found out that Marceline had moved back and was going to her school… well, there were a variety of reactions she could have. Bonnibel wasn’t necessarily sure she wanted to deal with, well, _any_ of those. “Just, uh… some new girl. You wouldn’t know her.”

“Oh, really?” Lolly raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Bonnibel shook her head. “No, really, it’s no big dea-”

“Tell me her name.” Lolly demanded. “Geez, Bonnibel, you’re never this hesitant to tell me anything. It’s almost like you know the name and schedule of everyone at your school.”

She bit her lip and thought about this. “F- fine. Her name is-” she took a deep breath and braced herself. “Marceline.”

“Marceline…” Lolly nodded and waved her hand in a gesture asking for her last name.

“Marceline Abadeer.”

Lolly looked shocked. “You mean, like…”

Bonnibel nodded. “Yeah. Marceline Abadeer. The one that used to live next door.” She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “She’s back, I guess. And she’s, uh… she’s running against me for head of student council.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, sorry if my posting is a bit spammy. I'm trying to get the first few chapters (which, yes, a lot of it has been pre-written and I'm mostly going back and editing it) out so that people who start reading it can get an idea of what the first arc is gonna be about. For example- technically, all I've done today is begin an attempt to rewrite the introductory chapter and copy and paste the already pre-written chapter.
> 
> Also, if you haven't noticed, the chapters are marked by "days before" an event and start at 180, which is the amount of days of school we have where I live. This is heavily based on what I know, and only counts school days as those are the only days during which the main couple will be interacting. For example, the chapter titled "180 days before" takes place on a Monday, and 179, and 177, and 176 will occur during that week with 175 occurring the next Monday. I have a schedule all planned out but considering I can't do math and only know Two Girls Holding Hands™ it might take me a while before I get that done.


	5. 280 Days Before

“Have you met the new Dean?” Finn asked the next day in the hallway as him and Bonnibel made their way through the hallways and out to the courtyard. Though Finn was a freshman, him and Bonnibel had the same lunch period and had met up in the hallway before going and finding the spot in the courtyard where Lady, Jake, and Bonnibel had eaten lunch every day for the past two years.

“Dean Lord?” Bonnibel asked as they turned the corner. “Yes, but he’s not a big talker. I’ve only really seen him, like, once when they were introducing faculty members. What about him?”

Finn let out an unhappy sigh. “Yeah. Dean Lord. He took my hat.”

“Your… hat?” Bonnibel glanced at Finn, who was, indeed, missing the white hat that Bonnibel had given him on his first trip to the café accompanying Jake, back when he was in seventh grade. He’d usually used it to cover a lot of his head seeing as his parents wouldn’t let him cut his hair. Finn had worn it every day ever since. She gasped. “But you love that hat!”

He nodded and looked away. “He said it was ‘out of dress code’ and confiscated it. Who knows where he’s keeping it now, but he says he’ll return it to me at the end of the semester.” He slouched forward. “I don’t have any other hats. It’s stupid. Dean Lord’s such a b-”

When they opened the heavy blue doors that lead outside, a man stood in their way, his arms crossed. Bonnibel immediately recognized the figure as Dean Lord himself, and Finn stuttered. “I mean, he’s such a cool dude,” he finished nervously. “D- don’t you think, Bonnibel?”

The dean just looked down at him in disappointment and squinted. He let out a disapproving grunt.

“To speak of the Devil,” Bonnibel muttered under her breath.

“What’s this about the Devil?” the dean demanded. “Young lady, that is inappropriate. I expect better from such a high-performing student, miss Buckingham.”

Bonnibel almost laughed. Surely, he couldn’t be serious. “Dean Lord, it’s an expression, it means-”

“I’ll tell you what it means, Buckingham,” the dean put his hands on his hips authoritatively. “It means that you could possibly be affiliated with a cult, and all cult activity or suspicion of cult activity must be reported to the school board immediately. Also, watch it, Buckingham. You’re acting mighty big for your britches.”

She had to bite her tongue not to make a remark about the Dean’s choice of figurative language. Instead, she said, “Sir I assure you that I am not in any way affiliated with a cult. That’s ridiculous.”

Dean Lord narrowed his eyes at Bonnibel. “I’ll let you by with a warning this time, Buckingham. But I’ve got my eye on you. Any mention of Satan, or the Devil, or anything…”

“Yes, thank you, goodbye,” Finn blurted as he grabbed Bonnibel’s wrist and pulled her sharply forward through the door.

They only made it a few feet when the dean whipped around and reached out his arm, grasping Bonnibel firmly by the top of the backpack. “ _Hey!_ ” he yelled, despite being just behind her. “What is this?”

Bonnibel gulped and shrugged one arm out of the backpack so she could see what he was holding on to with his other hand. It was a small, metal keychain that she’d been given years before. She’d always put it on her backpack before the beginning of the school year. She’d always considered it somewhat of a good luck charm, but as she recognized it, the time she’d received it played back in her mind. She gasped. “That- my friend gave it to me-”

“Some friend to give you a _gang symbol_ ,” the dean replied sternly. “Young lady, I’ll have to confiscate that-”

“She doesn’t mean any harm!” Finn called, tugging on Bonnibel’s arm. “You don’t have to take her stuff-”

“Please, don’t!” Bonnibel cried. “I promise, it’s not a gang symbol, and I’m _not_ a member of a cult. Please, sir, you’re being irrational.”

“ _Don’t_ tell me what’s rational and what’s irrational, miss Buckingham,” the dean unclipped the keyring from the backpack and dangled it in front of Bonnibel’s face. “I’ll be taking that, and _you,_ young lady, I will see _you_ in after-school suspension next Friday afternoon. Mertens, I’m sure you can tell your little friend all about that, what with your dress code violations of your own.”

Finn groaned.

“But Dean Lord, you _can’t-_ ” Bonnibel reached up to the keychain in an attempt to reclaim it.

The dean jerked up his hand and held it even higher in the air before slipping it into his pocket. “You are not to tell me what I can and cannot do, young lady. I thought you’d know better. I’m ashamed of you, Bonnibel.” The dean whipped around once more and began walking away through the hallway in which Finn and Bonnibel had come.

Never once had Bonnibel been placed in detention. God, if her aunt found out- correction, _when_ her aunt found out, she would never hear the end of it. She could get her phone taken away, or get a curfew, or she could get _grounded._ She had always been a good girl at school. How come today was different? Not to mention the dean had taken away one of the physical items that meant the most to her…

She was pulled out of this train of thought when Finn patted her back. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be there, too.”

“Thanks, buddy.” She looked down at Finn and smiled.

“Oh, and Jake,” he added. “He’s had stuff taken away, too. A water bottle. The dean thought it was some scentless, colourless drug that he was selling to Preston ‘cause Preston got thirsty and forgot his water bottle in phys-ed. It’s a shame, really. That guy Dean Lord is…” he looked around carefully before continuing. “He’s not my favourite dean, to say the least.”

“There have to be rules against that, right?” Bonnibel asked incredulously and started walking down the sidewalk through the courtyard to the friend group’s favourite tree. “He doesn’t even have, like, reasonable suspicion or anything. He’s straight-up violating our property!”

“Hey, is that Bonnie?”

Bonnibel heard the voice call and clenched her fists. She turned around to see Jake and… Marceline under a different tree in the courtyard. Finn tried not to let out a small snicker and covered his mouth. “Gee, thanks, buddy.”

Finn gasped and looked up at Bonnibel. “I’m sorry, it’s just kinda funny how much she gets on your nerves. I mean, it’s not surprising, considering how… judgemental you are? Eh, I always figured you weren’t fond of the artsier folks.”

“That’s not true,” Bonnibel argued as the two began making their way to what appeared to be their newly selected lunch area. “I like some artists. Sometimes, their passion can be what makes them successful, you know?” She didn’t have any clue how she was going to explain to Finn the real reason why she had been avoiding Marceline at all costs ever since the first day of school, or how she would explain it to anyone, as a matter of fact.

When they arrived, Bonnibel thrust out her arms. “What the heck?” she demanded.

Jake swallowed a bit of his sandwich. “Huh?”

Bonnibel shot a glance at Marceline, and then back at Jake.

“Oh!” Jake put his sandwich back in the bag and spoke. “Marceline asked if she could join us this morning. Guess she’s trying to even the playing field or something, what with her runnin’ against you for student council. I let her, ‘cause, well, she’s cool. A fun new buddy to add to the squad, y’know?” He took out a bag of cheese puffs and started loudly munching on them.

“We’re not a squad, we’re a group of friends, and of course Marceline’s not a part of it,” Bonnibel mumbled. The last thing she needed was to be stuck hanging out every school day with Marceline tagging along as if she were some new friend.

Marceline, who had been idly laying with her legs crossed and her hands behind her head opened one eye and said, “What’re you gonna do, send me away?”

Bonnibel ignored this remark.

Finn shuffled his feet slightly, and Marceline opened her eyes all the way and sat forward. “Hey, Jake, who’s the other chick? The freshman?”

Jake let out a tiny cough as he choked on a cheese puff. Bonnibel gave Marceline an alarmed look, and Finn groaned and pulled his hood over his head, covering most of his face before crossing his arms and leaning forward slightly.

As soon as he was done coughing, Jake pointed to Finn with his pinkie. “That’s my brother. His name’s Finn.”

Marceline gasped as she quickly recognized Finn’s body language. “Oh, my God, dude, I’m so sorry.”

“’S fine,” Finn mumbled. “Happens all the time.”

The three kids stood in silence, before Bonnibel and Finn finally sat down and joined their friends. The silence was awkward, and Bonnibel would have broken it if she wasn’t trying to watch her mouth as to not say anything she might not want Marceline to know. Instead, Marceline was the first one to start speaking again.

“Hey, don’t y’all normally have another person hanging around?” She asked. Bonnibel figured she was referring to Lady.

Jake nodded. “Yeah, that’s Lady. She’s my girlfriend. She’s out with the flu.”

Marceline bit her lip thoughtfully. “Damn.” She nodded. “Damn. You said you’ve been here two years? How long’ve you and Lady been together?”

His cheeks flushed slightly as he dusted his hands together, though the powdered cheese from the puffs didn’t really come off all the way. “Well, it was kind of a slow thing, I guess you could say. We were kind of close for like a year and a half, and maybe halfway through last year she kissed me and we’ve just sort of… y’know, done our thing ever since.”

Bonnibel nodded in agreement. She sure remembered when Lady and Jake considered each other no more than best friends. Lady sure hadn’t been quiet about it to her, though she rarely spoke to Lady on her own. Jake had sort of hung around for as long as she could remember. For a brief second, she wondered if their relationship would stay the same if, say, Lady had to move away, though she decided not to dwell on this thought.

“You know, that’s sorta lucky,” Marceline laughed airily. “You can never tell how nerd girls feel about you. Or anyone, for that matter.” She shot a quick glance at Bonnibel, who looked away. “A lot of them are… hard to read.”

“Speaking of hard to read,” Finn started in an attempt to change the subject. Bonnibel would have to thank him for that later. “Marcy, do you know Dean Lord?”

Marceline nodded. “Yeah. He’s a cool guy, so long as you’re not cussing out the bus driver for getting you to school late. In front of him.” She winced, and Jake let out a small chuckle. “Why do you ask?”

“The dude took my favourite hat ‘til the end of the semester and gave me detention,” Finn explained, taking a bite out of his own sandwich. “Bonnibel gave it to me a while back. Oh, also, he took some weird keychain from Bonnibel and gave her detention, too. Honestly, it didn’t seem like her style, but she said a frie-”

Bonnibel interrupted. “It’s no big deal, really. Just a little trinket that I found.”

“Oh, I can help you both get your junk back.” Marceline replied as if it were the simplest solution in the world.

“You can?” Finn asked excitedly.

“You can?” Bonnibel mirrored Finn’s surprise, though with a noticeable note of doubt and a trace amount of sarcasm.

Marceline snorted. “Yeah. If you didn’t know, I’m on good terms with him. He knows I’m friends with the two of you, he’ll return your stuff. Unless it’s _actually_ illegal.” She looked over at Jake. “You want me to pick up anything for you?” She asked jokingly.

“Oh!” He sat straight up. “Actually, he took my water bottle ‘cause he thought I was selling an odourless, flavourless, colourless drug.”

She snorted. “He knows that’s not how it works, right?”

Jake shrugged.

“I wouldn’t call us friends, Abadeer,” Bonnibel muttered darkly. “I’ll wait ‘til the end of the semester to retrieve my item.”

Marceline shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

“Oh, give her a break, Bonnibel,” Finn elbowed his friend gently. “You _did_ seem pretty distraught when he took away your little backpack thingy. Marceline’s trying to do something nice for you. Just chill, man.”

Bonnibel wanted to argue, but she couldn’t decide what she could possibly say without giving too much away. If she could just convince Marceline to leave it alone, she would end up getting the keychain back at the end of the semester, just as the dean had promised. If she couldn’t… well, Marceline would find out that she’d kept it, and she’d quite possibly never hear the end of it. Admittedly, she wanted it back, but she didn’t want Marceline to have yet another thing to tease her about in front of her friends and possible voters.

“Why would Marceline want to do something nice for me?” she finally spat through a clenched jaw, standing up. “Think about it. Ever since she’s been here, she’s caused me nothing but pain and inconvenience.” She put emphasis on the last part of that sentence, and glared darkly at Marceline.

In response to this, Marceline’s expression flashed through emotions of hurt, offense, and confusion. “Dude, I’m _right here_.” She spread out her arms as if to prove that she was, in fact, a real person.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Jake stood up between the two girls and spread out his arms as if calming down a spooked horse. “Now, Bonnibel, let’s not get too worked up over this. I can promise you that Marceline doesn’t want anything more than to help us get our stuff back, and that includes you and your… whatever it is you lost.”

Finn stood up next to Jake and crossed his arms, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, Bonnibel. You need to _chill out_. I know you don’t like her, but she’s never once done anything to get on your bad side.”

“You’d be surprised,” Bonnibel mumbled.

“Look,” Finn sighed shook his head before placing his hand on Bonnibel’s shoulder, which likely took a little more effort than it should have considering Bonnibel was much taller than the little freshman boy. “If you have something you need to talk about, let us know.”

“Dammit, Bonnibel!” Jake swore suddenly.

Finn turned around, and let out a disappointed sigh. Marceline had disappeared, leaving nothing in her wake but the vivid shape of her body on the grass. “Man, you scared her away.”

“God, I get it you’re, like, emotionally distraught by whatever Marceline’s done to you,” Jake sneered sarcastically, “but you really need to work on your manners.” He walked up to her and poked her chest, letting out a “hmph” before storming off.

Finn gave her a sad look that spoke more words than any sentence he could ever form before picking his backpack up and walking off to class.

Bonnibel took a few steps forward but stopped, and was left there, standing alone in a depression in the grass in the shape of Marceline’s body with nothing but her thoughts, her backpack, and a weird, unfamiliar ache in her chest.

When Bonnibel arrived at home later that day, the number of messages on her old landline phone had once again increased to ten.


End file.
